


In Your Beautiful Hands

by DuckInterpreter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College post-canon, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:17:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuckInterpreter/pseuds/DuckInterpreter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is at college, he's making friends, he has a good (if unconventional) job, and he's happy. He is. Really happy.<br/>So why can't he stop thinking about the friends he left behind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Your Beautiful Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [В твоих надежных руках](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2614064) by [JuliaJulia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaJulia/pseuds/JuliaJulia), [tatianatiana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatianatiana/pseuds/tatianatiana)



“Nah man, it’s fine it’s my shout today,” Stiles said, grinning at the boy sitting across from him. Oliver was in his first year of college, a long way from home, and only just coming to terms with his sexuality. Stiles couldn’t help but be reminded of himself, and had taken him under his wing, helping with school work, buying him dinner when Stiles noticed he’d been hanging around the cafeteria looking hungry.  
Oliver’s mouth was full, but he hesitantly put away his wallet.  
“You can’t afford to keep feeding me, Stiles,” he said, frowning around a mouthful of chips.  
Stiles laughed. “I’ll tell you if I can’t, okay? Don’t worry about me.”  
His phone rang and he glanced down at it. “I gotta take this, dude, give me a call later about that econ exam, okay?” He patted Oliver on the shoulder and slipped outside.  
“Hey, babe,” He said into the phone, his voice low and warm, sliding down the wall behind the building and glancing around. It was deserted.  
“Hey- hey Felix,” a voice squeaked through on the other end.  
“How you doing, Charlie?”  
Charles was a married man, in his early fifties, Stiles would guess. He called Stiles every Tuesday night, they talked for around half an hour, and Stiles would talk him through a scenario where he got to dominate Stiles in every way he wanted to. Afterwards, Stiles got a little over a hundred dollars put in his bank account. He’d been working as a phone sex operator for a little under two years, and while he didn’t love it, it was interesting work, he got to hone his acting skills, and it was work he could do between classes. The pay was good and he didn’t have to wear a uniform. Except for the fact he couldn’t really tell anyone what he did, it was an ideal job.  
“What are you wearing?” Charles asked.  
“I just finished working out,” Stiles said (Charles apparently pictured him 6’5 and buff) “so I’m in a tank and shorts, do you want me to take them off?”  
Charles got off and Stiles hung up, texting his boss to log the half hour, and wandering back to his dorm. He had a single, miraculously, he wasn’t sure how he’d do his job with a roommate watching. The space was tiny, but it had been his for the past two years, and he liked it.  
His work phone beeped.  
 **All good. New client gonna call you 2night, around 8. Not sure about what services, sounded young, prob just wants to try the d. He sounded cute.**  
Stiles snorted. 

Stiles wandered to a lecture on the other side of campus, occasionally smiling and waving at people, but not stopping to chat to anyone. He knew a lot of people, but hadn’t really made any close friends. In truth, his best friend when he was growing up was the last person he’d been really close to, and when Stiles had moved across the country, Scott had been working, studying and had a serious girlfriend. They’d kept in touch for the first six months. And then it just sort of… fell off. Every time Stiles called, Scott was busy, and whenever Scott called, Stiles would be heading out. It had been a year since their last conversation, now. Stiles still thought about it sometimes, wondering whether he could have done more, tried harder. When he gets drunk he takes out his phone and stares at Scott’s name, but he finally called one night and the number was disconnected.  
After class, Stiles headed to the library for a couple of hours, finally getting back to his room at quarter to eight. He grabbed his notebook and laptop; he could translate his notes into something more closely resembling English while he spoke on the phone.  
His phone rang at 7:57pm. He let it go three or four times and then casually answered, making his voice deeper and smoother. Part of it was so he was less recognisable, but clients seemed to like it more than his normal voice. It was masculine, but with a hint of… something. Something else. You could just as easily imagine a gym buff as a slim drag queen having that voice.  
“Hello,” He said, his voice warm and familiar.  
“Oh! Hi, I uh- is this, I’m pretty sure I called the right number- I had an appointment at 8?” the voice on the other end stuttered.  
Stiles frowned. He felt like he recognised that voice. Maybe he was an old client.  
“This is the right number, you’re right on time,” he said.  
“Ah, good. I um- how does this normally work?” the guy cleared his throat.  
“Well… you could start by telling me your name,” Stiles purred, laying back on his bed, “and then if you want, you could tell me what brought you to me.”  
“Ok, I’m, uh, do people usually use their real names?”  
Stiles laughed. “Sometimes. It depends on how worried they are that someone will find out. Personally, I won’t tell anyone, and isn’t it more satisfying to hear someone moaning your name when it’s your real name?”  
“Fair enough. I’m Scott.”  
Stiles sat bolt upright in his bed. Scott? _His Scott?_ As soon as he said his name Stiles placed him, and he was surprised he hadn’t immediately recognised his voice. But- what should he do now? Hang up, or keep pretending to be Felix? Should he come clean? Somehow he didn’t want to first time he’d talked to his best friend in a year to be on a sex hotline. Stiles’ throat felt thick when he realized he’d immediately fallen back into calling Scott his best friend.  
In the end, Scott made the decision for Stiles.  
“I guess I called because I just got out of a long relationship, and I’m lonely and… I don’t really have anyone to talk to. All my friends are her friends, or long gone. And- and I’ve been noticing guys. I never thought about me not being straight, but now I… I don’t know. My first kiss was with another guy.”  
Stiles’ cheeks grew warm when he realized the kiss Scott was referring to was with him. They had been fourteen and awkward and Scott was crying over his first break-up, talking about how they hadn’t even kissed when he looked up at Stiles, bright-eyed, and suggested they kiss. Then at least they could say they’d done it.  
He couldn’t just hang up, he couldn’t leave him alone when he was clearly going through stuff. But he would have to give an explanation, maybe even tell the truth. And maybe it was selfish, or cowardly, but Stiles simply couldn’t bring himself to do it.  
“What do you look like?” Scott asked suddenly, after a short pause.  
Stiles’ head spun, usually he could get a reading on a guy about what sort of thing he was into but this was Scott and Stiles was coming up blank.  
“I, uh, I’m pretty tall. I’m thin, not scrawny though. I’ve got dark hair and brown eyes.” Stiles said, after a moment.  
Scott made a small pleased sound.  
“What about you?” Stiles asked.  
“My mom is Mexican, and I got a lot of her features. I play a lot of sport, so I’m pretty fit, I guess. I dunno, what do you want to know?”  
“Tell me about your cock.” Stiles said softly, swallowing.  
There was a pause, and Stiles wondered if he’d pushed him too fast.  
“It- I’m, I’m circumcised. And I don’t like to shave- there- you know. Do guys prefer it when you shave? Is it the same as with girls?” Scott answered.  
“I like a bit of hair, personally. I can’t speak to other guys, but I’ve never shaved and I’ve never had any complaints from guys.”  
“Have you been with many guys?”  
“A few. I’ve only dated one- and not for long. But I’ve slept with- say, twenty, maybe?”  
Scott whistled, low, on the other end of the line. “How old are you? You don’t sound very old. Oh! I’m sorry- if that’s too personal?”  
Stiles chuckled. “It’s okay. I’m- 20.”  
He was 21, but he felt like on top of giving a relatively accurate description of himself, giving his age too might be problematic.  
“Wow. Do you- can we talk about you?”  
“Okay…” Stiles said slowly. “What do you want to know?”  
“How did you know you were gay?”  
“I’m not gay- not totally, I’m bi. And I guess I knew because-“ Stiles paused, wondering whether the truth was best. “because I was in love with my best friend. He was straight-” _or so I thought_ , Stiles thought wryly. “And nothing ever happened, really. But that was my first clue.”  
“I’m- I think I’m bi, too. I love girls, but I think guys, too? I don’t know. I w- I think I liked one of my friends. The one I kissed. I thought about it all the time, for months after. I tried to bring it up again, do it again, but he never- I never thought he saw me that way. I still fantasise about it sometimes.”  
Stiles heart was thumping in his chest, and his cock was stirring in his pants. He hadn’t been turned on by a client since the first week- but this was Scott. And he was talking about _Stiles_.  
“When you touch yourself?” He asked, barely more than a whisper.  
“Yeah,” Scott’s voice was husky.  
“Tell me.” Stiles ordered, palming his cock through his pants.  
“We were on the lacrosse team in high school. When I’m in the shower, sometimes I think about how after practice he’d be in the shower right next to mine and it’d drive me crazy, wanting to look at him and- and not being able to. I imagine that we were there after everyone, on our own, and I could finally look the way I wanted to and he’d, he’d be looking back. And I’d kiss him, and then I’d kneel and I’d let him fuck my mouth and-” he grunted a little, a muffled half-moan, “I’d jerk off with his cock in my mouth, _fuck_ , god, it’d make me come so hard imagining it.”  
Stiles was officially fully hard, and palming himself through his pants wasn’t cutting it, so he wriggled a little, pushing his jeans over his hips and down, until his dick was uncovered. He wrapped his hand firmly around the base.  
“That sounds amazing,” he purred into the phone, stroking himself a few times. “I’m touching myself, is that okay?”  
“ _God yes_ ,” Scott gasped a little. “I- I am. I think I might really like dudes,”  
“I don’t think you would have called if you didn’t,” Stiles murmured. “How big are you?”  
“I’m about eight inches, hard. How about you?”  
Stiles laughed, “Not quite that big, I’m a little over six.”  
“Easier to deep throat.” Scott muttered.  
“Oh, God, did you really just say that?” Stiles choked out.  
Scott laughed.  
“It’s your turn,” He said.  
“For what?” Stiles asked.  
“To talk, tell me about- the best sex you’ve ever had.”  
“Alright,” Stiles smiled and tried to think. Probably with Danny, while he was still in Beacon Hills.  
“It was with the first guy I’d slept with. You know how it is when you’re a teenager, it’s all adrenaline and risk and it was really hot. We were at his parents, and they were downstairs, thought we were studying.”  
Stiles closed his eyes, he could still see it. Danny’s room was almost stark white, only a few tasteful posters.  
“I had him bent over the bed. He liked it a little rough, so I was pulling his hair, really just- going for it.” Stiles was getting close, thinking about it, but he wanted Scott to come first, so he slowed down his strokes. “He stood up almost straight, until we were pressed together from shoulder to knee, and I grabbed his throat and he- he came without me even touching him.”  
“God,” Scott muttered.  
“Yeah it was- pretty good.”  
“Was that your first boyfriend?”  
“No, we just fooled around while I was in high school. I didn’t date anyone until college, B- my hometown was too small. Are you still touching yourself?”  
“Yeah,” Scott grunted a little. “Tell me another one. Another guy from your home town.”  
“There was another guy, an older one. Way too hot to ever want anything to do with me, I thought. But we kept- running into each other.” Stiles smiled a little at the memory. He kept very purposefully seeking Derek out. He never told Scott about Derek, although he knew about Danny.  
“He found me one night walking home in the rain. It was after two and I’d snuck into a gay bar a town over. I didn’t mean to drink, but one guy there kept buying me shots. In the end I knew I couldn’t drive, but the guy got super scary, so I started to walk. I couldn’t call anyone- I was barely coming to terms with myself. No-one else knew, and I couldn’t explain I was coming home from a gay bar. I figured if I started walking I’d be home by dawn and catch a bus over to the other town later in the day to pick up my car. Anyway, I’d been trudging along the road for an hour, I was stone-cold sober by this time, and this car pulls up beside me. And it’s this guy, this scary hulking dude, who is gorgeous beyond words, who I’d been attracted to for months. He growls at me to get in and starts to berate me for being out, yelling about murderers and god knows what else. Finally I had to tell him I’d been at a gay bar. And that I couldn’t really go home. He went silent for the longest time. And when we got back into town, he stops at his place, and doesn’t say anything but just gets out and goes inside. When I got in he’d pulled out a towel and dry clothes for me. After I was dry, because I was stupid, I kissed him. I thought he’d throw me through a window, but he didn’t. He kissed me back. And then he fucked me. He was the first- the first guy who fucked me.” Stiles remembered how Derek had thrown him down on the bed, how he’d pulled Stiles on top of him until Stiles perched on his cock, rocking, Derek’s hands on his hips. Stiles’ hand sped up again.  
“In the morning, I thought he’d pretend nothing had happened, but when I got in the shower he followed me. He soaped me up and stroked my cock until I came all over his stomach, and then he pushed me against the wall and fucked me again.”  
Scott moaned.  
“Fuck, are you close, babe?” Stiles sighed into the phone.  
“Y-yeah,” Scott grunted.  
“God, I am loving imagining you, stroking your cock for me. Come for me? Please?”  
Scott gasped and groaned.  
“F-fuck, Stiles, _Stiles._ ”  
Stiles shuddered and came apart, crying out, come splashing across his stomach and bed.  
The was a long pause, when only the sounds of their heavy breath echoed across the phone.  
A though drifted past Stiles’ mind and he watched it float by, a little amused, until it hit him.  
“Scott?” He gasped. “Did you-”  
“Yeah, Stiles.” Came the soft reply. “I knew it was you. Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize your voice?”  
“I- uh, how did you-?”  
“It was just a hunch. You mentioned once your bosses name, and I’d already figured out what your job was. Once I knew both it wasn’t too tough to figure out which one was you. You obviously wrote your own description on the website.” He chuckled.  
“I’m sorry Scott- I should have- as soon as I knew it was you, I shouldn’t have-” Stiles was upset, his throat was burning. And then he got angry.   
“You know, it’s not very fair of you to just- just call me like this, and lead me on with all that stuff about thinking about me, and I know I should have come clean once I knew it was you but you shouldn’t have- not when you knew how I felt. About you.”  
Stiles stood, still naked.  
“Stiles. Please listen, I would never lie to you about something like that! You’re my best friend!”  
Stiles sat back down.  
“Still, even after a year?” He whispered.  
“Of course.” Scott sounded indignant. “I- I need you right now, man. As a friend, definitely. And maybe- maybe…?”  
A desperate hope lit in Stiles’ chest. “Maybe- more, too, you mean?”  
“Yeah. Maybe more. I know it’s been a long time, but the truth is, I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen. And this last year has been the hardest of my life, not having you. And that includes the year I got bitten by a psychopath and turned into a werewolf.”  
Stiles laughed. “I think I’d like that.”  
“Hey, Stiles, there’s just one more thing…” Scott murmured.  
“Yeah?”  
“Did you really have sex with Derek?” He asked, his voice neutral.  
“I… yeah.” Stiles swallowed.  
“I knew it!” Scott laughed. “Erica owes me twenty bucks!” 

**Epilogue – six months later**

“Hey!” Stiles called into the apartment, dragging two arms full of groceries through the door. “little help?”  
Scott came bounding out of the bedroom and kissed Stiles warmly, his mouth open and wet and familiar. He took the bags from Stiles’ hands while his mouth was still occupied and carried them easily to the kitchen.  
“I got confirmation of my enrollment today!” Scott grinned at Stiles, pulling vegetable and meat from the bags “And the movers called, they found our lost box of books!”  
“Only a week late,” Stiles grumbled.  
“Hey, how can you be sad about anything, we’re together, finally!” Scott bounced a little, still grinning ear to ear.  
He was right. Although they were great at phone sex, the last few months had been torture for them both. Scott finally had enough, and changed his enrollment to a veterinary school in New York. They got a place together without too much trouble, Stiles had considerable savings by this point. The whole pack came to New York for a surprise house warming, and Stiles cried, to everyone’s embarrassment. Oliver and Isaac exchanged numbers, and Scott and Stiles wandered away three times during the party for sex. Derek had raised an eyebrow at Stiles, who blushed and shrugged.  
Stiles approached Scott, resting his head between his shoulder blades and running his fingers over the warm skin at his waist.  
“Mmm, Stiles, I have to get the cold stuff away.”  
Stiles ignored him, kissing his neck.  
“Stiles, I-”  
“Stiles,” he moaned, Stiles’ hand slipping down the front of Scott’s pants.  
Stiles pressed against him, breathing into his ear.  
“Want me to stop?”  
“Don’t you dare,” Scott gasped.  
Stiles grinned. He already loved the new place.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from a poem by Hafiz
> 
> "This is the kind of Friend  
> You are -  
> Without making me realize  
> My soul's anguished history,  
> You slip into my house at night,  
> And while I am sleeping,  
> You silently carry off  
> All my suffering and sordid past  
> In Your beautiful  
> Hands"


End file.
